FCK My Life
by xTonyaJacex
Summary: He honest to god has no idea why him. It's not that he's not grateful but more of- what the hell god? What's a gay bloke to do, now that he's reborn in a world of quirks and a girl? (SI/OC FF) [Also found on Ao3]
1. Chapter 1

**I shouldn't have done this but I did. I posted another story ( waaaaah I'm sorry I just couldn't help it!)**

 **I'm in a serious Boku No Hero phase right now. And My fave character is by far definitely Bakugou and his Baku squad. Which meant I'm a shameless BakuDeku shipper. It didn't take long for me to blitz through all the BakuDeku fics on AO3 and desperately search for some here on . My desperation reached the point of no return and i just searched for fics where Bakugou wasn't demoralized to a shallow bully or abusive asshole. He's a complex character and any of you readers familiar with my Teen Wolf fic Keeper's Keep or Disney x G.o.T : Big Four in Westeros ( found on AO3) will know how much I love complex characters.**

 **I've got some half-assed ideas for other BNHA fics on my laptop, but thanks to TWO specific fanfics, my inspiration for this story really pushed me to publish it.**

 **So y'all can thank Authorship ( _He's the evil Twin, Okay?)_** **and Tsume Yuki ( _Picking up Steam)_ for their god blessed brains and BNHA SELF INSERT OC FANFICTIONS. **

**10/10 demand everyone check them out because it is glorious.**

 **I'm pretty sure you can find them on Ao3 [same as me] under the same usernames as well.**

 **Anyway, enjoy this prologue because the next chapter will hopefully be out in 2 weeks max.**

* * *

 **BNHA: F*CK MY LIFE!**

 **Prologue: Contemplate.**

There comes a time in every man's life, where he simply must ask why?

Why him?

What did he do in this life or his last that brought him here?

Seriously, what the hell did he do?

Who'd he piss off?

His luck couldn't possibly be this shitty.

Still the reality of his situation was staring him straight in the face. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't pissing himself with fear. It's obvious by the glint in those beautiful- WILDLY INSANE but still beautiful- eyes what the outcome was going to be. He had no hope of getting out of this and if he was to be honest….. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"Jonathan- please."

It was a last ditch attempt, his voice garbled and shaky due to the fear pulsing throughout his body. He didn't recognize the sound of his own voice and most of him had already accepted the truth.

He wouldn't be leaving this roof top alive.

"No no, this is a good thing my love. I promise. This world! It doesn't deserve you. I promise in the next world you'll be happy."

Jonathan, his lover, partner, the man he had been so sure was his destined soulmate from the universe, smiled at him with earnest belief. The wet sensation of his cheeks barely registered as he stared at the man he'd long given his heart. Perhaps that was a good thing though, as he barely felt any sense of betrayal. All he could feel was acceptance because- because- because….. Jonathan loved him more than he could ever understand.

And even now, with the knife in his hands, and that look in his eyes.

He knew it was love driving his lover to do this.

How insane is that?

How fucking messed is his life that he can sympathize and UNDERSTAND his sick lover's motives.

How the fuck can he just accept he was going to die- just because he understood his soon to be Killer's motives.

"You don't have to do this!"

Though the words sounded so earnest and hopeful, only he knew how empty they were.

He was going to die.

Jonathan was going to kill him.

There was no doubt about it.

But still it must be that survival instinct every human is supposed to have finally kicking in. Where the fuck was it when he was being lead to his death? Why the fuck didn't it warn him that first day he met Jonathan? Where the fuck was his survival instinct then?

"I know. I know I don't but if I don't this world will swallow you alive."

He should back away, or flinch heck he should not be this fucking calm! But he doesn't, he stays still almost leaning into the hand that reaches out for his cheek. The fact it takes effort for him to not lean into the touch is the real freaky shit about this whole situation.

"Jonathan, you're sick."

It's the truth and it tastes like copper on his tongue.

There's a minute where everything seems to pause. Neither of them moves, it's almost as if time has stopped. Not in the romantic sense- it was far from romantic- more in suspense. That bit in a horror movie where you know some spooky shit is going to pop up and make you scream. Regardless, he can't help but feel hope. What he's hoping for- he's not sure, but the feeling is there.

He shouldn't have felt it though.

After all he was a 25 year old pessimist and well look where it's gotten him!?

Can you seriously blame a guy?

This whole fucking thing just confirms every pessimistic thought he's ever had.

What's the use of being an optimist now!?

"I know I am. It was those pills! The pills were poisoning me! I had to stop- had TO!"

The desperately earnest confession causes his stomach to drop. It's the final nail to his metaphorical soon to be real coffin. Jonathan had stopped taking his meds.

Shit.

Fuck.

He was going to die.

The reality of it all settles itself in his chest- his gut- fuck his whole self.

The tears on his face fall faster and his trembling uncontrollable. He think's maybe he should just try a little more- stall for time, someone must have noticed something, surely. He knows there are supposed to be security camera's up here.

Surely, help was on the way.

Certainly someone was going to come to his rescue.

Jonathan is moving closer and- How the fuck can he still look so beautiful!? It's unfair, so tragically unfair and fuck you universe for making this the end to his life story. The instinctive bodily knowledge of 'danger' over powered any wants to move closer to his love. Instead some subconscious force had him backing closer to the edge every step Jonathan took forward.

"Please."

The knife in his hand twitches and he sees Jonathan cry. The 4 years they'd spent together- The history between him, urges him to get closer- to embrace him. It's his heart that tells him to step closer and comfort him because- LOOK AT HIS EYES! Jonathan is crying and what kind of shitty boyfriend are you!? Why aren't you comforting him!?

"Jona-"

"Stop! Just- stop. I k-know how this looks. I-I know what this means, but I can't-"

He can feel the fear in his blood pulsing wildly, his chest heaves frantically because it knows what's coming. He doesn't know why, but he forces himself to commit every second to memory. He forces himself to stare straight into the eyes of the man he planned to propose to later that evening. He tells himself he needs to verbally voice his last words. Screams in his head for his mouth to open and spew all the ways he loves him. Yet nothing comes out.

Jonathan comes to a stop and he's got the knife in his hand angled. The ledge of the building digs into his back. He should fucking move- he knows he should but he can't.

He will never know why he didn't fucking move.

He will repeatedly live this moment in his head trying to figure out why.

He would wonder if it was overwhelming fear or his infinite love that held him in place.

Most of all he will hear those words sobbed with broken desire.

"I can't let this world destroy you."

"Jonathan?"

"I love you."

The thrust of that steel pointed tip hurt less than those whispered three words. The world fell silent and swirled to a single pin point. All he could see were the tears in his lover's eyes and the trapped sanity that screamed within its caged depths. Then slowly the world came alive and sound returned to his ears. It didn't matter anymore none of it, because he was already falling.

He'd like to think he managed one last smile before he [was pushed] fell.

He wants to believe that Jonathan- his lover, murderer, soulmate- had understood his silent message. He desperately clung to the hope that Jonathan knew he'd forgiven him the moment that blade pierced his flesh.

As he fell, he could only watch as the blue sky seemed endless and the buildings blurred into motion. He wondered if the knife in his chest would kill him before he'd reach the bottom. He had 28 floors to think about this and by the 14th floor he concluded it didn't matter.

Though he didn't scream as he fell, when his body met the ground he had one last thought.

' _Fuck My Life!'_

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 **Don't be shy, tell me what you think xD**

 **hopefully I set the mood right.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm amazed by how many people have already shown interest when all I had up was the prologue! Whelp, here's the next chapter. In terms of chapter lengths, I don't have a set word count. I just type till I think it's a good place to end a chapter. I hope you guys don't mind. If it helps, I have the plot for this somewhat fleshed out up to the last episode of season 2. I've not seen the movie or S3 yet.**

 **In terms of the Japanese language- we all know that using Google translate is a bust, so I sort of avoided it lol.**

 **Any way, Enjoyx**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Born Anew**

When he took his first breath- after his long fall, he could only think to do one thing.

He screamed.

He screamed and screamed until his throat hurt just as much as his chest.

How long he screamed- fuck if he knew, but it felt like an eternity.

No one knows what happens after they die, all the world had were shitty theories made up by philosophical space heads and religious optimists. Oh! And one shouldn't forget the scientific logic that everyone just turned to dirt and some form of organic energy or some shit. He'd never once thought much about it before. Dying was an empty constant he'd vocally pray and plead for in his everyday life- but secretly hoped was way far off down his future timeline.

So, no- he never really figured out his personal belief towards Death and what happened next.

But this?

This has got to be some God damn Supernatural- Voodoo shit.

He shouldn't have been able to wake up- he's supposed to be a pancake!

But in comparison to the crippling agony in his chest and the memory of his last moments in life. All he could do was scream. He vaguely was aware of movement around him. Between those few seconds where he'd heave to catch his breath before his next wail. He's sure he heard voices- but all of it went unnoticed by him as he screamed to the world his heartbreak and pain.

There were rocking motions and then something was being pressed towards his open mouth. He didn't want it and he struggled to fight its intrusion. However he was exhausted- so tired of fighting against the agony so he simply stopped. Whatever was in his mouth was comforting- distracting and it slowly lulled him to sleep.

Not before he managed to hear the mumbling of voices.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Daichi stared at the bundled form of his new born child and did his best not to get emotional. It was simply a miracle- she was a miracle. He looked to his wife and couldn't help but be in awe at how perfect she looked. Everything about the moment simply felt right for him. As if all his life- all those years of struggling and hardships, were to prepare him for this very moment.

Masaki wasn't aware of his gaze- too enamored by the precious feel of their child in her arms. She was barely aware of anything other than the miracle child they'd managed to create.

"She's perfect." She whispered while lightly caressing the babe's soft cheek.

"She's loud." He countered with extreme bluntness.

The judgement on the nearby nurse's face was blatant, but he cared little for what the woman may think. Masaki let out a laugh in agreement, understanding just how blunt her husband could be. Unlike most people she found his rather straight forward nature to be charming and humorous. Besides, it wasn't like he was wrong.

"It doesn't matter. She could develop an extreme vocal quirk and still be perfect in my eyes."

"Hn."

They fell quiet and simply watched the babe suckle and feed.

If Daichi were to be honest on a very minuscule scale, he was disappointed. He'd been hoping very much for a son- while Masaki had been dead set praying for a daughter. He tried his best to battle the small amount of disappointment he felt. Ashamed that he would feel such a way when it was very obvious his wife was so happy.

"What should we name her?" Masaki whispered with an excited beam.

Daichi stayed quiet, well aware that his wife was mostly speaking to herself. He listened as she distractedly listed name after name. He made sure to stay quiet through all the suggested names- knowing his silence would be enough to indicate his thoughts. Just as she was about to suggest the name Tsuki- he interfered.

"Wait. Repeat the one before that." He softly ordered

"Hm Narumi?"

He shook his head, and made sure to meet her questioning gaze.

"Before that."

"Oh! Natsumi?"

"Hn."

Masaki seemed to melt at his confirmation and she brightened even more. They both turned and looked at the child in her arms. He felt his lips curl upwards with idle pride and heard his wife whisper the name into the babe's ear.

"I think Natsumi is perfect. Natsumi Kurosaki, our beautiful summer baby."

As the babe's suckling began to taper off and it fell under sleep's spell. The two new parent's simply watched. Unaware of just how special their new-born daughter truly was, or the plans fate had for her future.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

After his first initial awakening, time was hard to keep track off. Most often he found himself falling into fits of screaming and sleeping. During those rare moments he'd manage to stay quiet and awake for longer than a few minutes, he discovered two constants about his situation. There was always a woman and a man. The two never left him alone and sometimes in his most irrational mood, he quite enjoyed cussing them out.

Not like they understood any of the shit he screamed at them.

Only by the third week did he realize just what had happened.

Rebirth! As in reincarnation!? What the actual fuck!?

For the Kurosaki household, that week had been a truly exhausting week. If he wasn't still reeling from the shock of his death and the truth of his rebirth, he would have felt bad. Alas, he couldn't give too shits about the young parents as they weren't suffering through the same hell he was.

"Natsumi- chan!" his new mother begged as he screamed late into the night.

FUCK IT LADY YOU DON'T GET WHAT I'M FEELING!

Another annoying realization was the fact he could not understand what his new parents constantly garbled in his ears. It took him four days to figure out they were speaking Japanese and as a person fluent in only one language, he understood none of it. The rather upbeat and quickly spoken dialect was nothing like English and in his less than pleasant mood- it only added to his screaming.

Just as it was looking to be another sleepless night for the Kurosaki household, he found himself roughly passed into the arms of his new father. He was only vaguely aware of his new mother snapping something out in frustration before she stormed out of the room. He'd been well prepared to continue screaming, only to freeze at the man's deeply stern call of his name.

" **Natsu**."

In truth he only shut up out of shock.

Like what the hell!?

Who talks to a baby like that!?

The man said something that- thanks to his anime phase in his teen years- he understood to be something about his mother. He didn't stop crying but he did stop screaming as he thought on what the man could possibly be scolding him for. It slowly dawned on him that his father probably intervened for his mother's sake.

Okay, fine, maybe he was being a dick to his new mom.

As far as he's noticed, he's an only child- which means he must be their first kid.

He was being a total ass by not letting them sleep through the night.

It took a lot of effort but he managed to calm enough till he was simply sulking with the occasional sniffle. His new father had stopped holding him outwards like he was diseased and instead brought him close into a very warm snuggle. The man was mumbling things to him- shit he seriously could not understand- but just the rumbling of his rather deep voice was comforting. He'd not felt so safe in such a long time, even when he'd been with Jonathan. It was both weird and comforting to be the one cared for rather than the other way round.

Just as he was on the verge of giving in to the call of sleep, he heard his new mother re-enter the room. He forced himself to open his eyes and properly look at the woman. While his new parent's exchanged words he studied their appearance.

He'd never had parents before- he'd spent most of his life going from foster home to foster home. After he'd turned 8 he stopped hoping to ever have any. It was a real fucking shame he never got to find out why the hell he never got adopted but shit what's a guy to do when he's dead and reborn.

"Masaki," his new father named.

He'd come to understand that his father was Daichi Kurosaki and his mother was Masaki. He'd at first thought the two had Kurosaki for their first names and had been confused as shit. Of course logic than kicked in and he remembered that the Japanese had the last names before the given.

He'd had a bit of a hysterical panic attack, horribly thinking he'd been reborn into Bleach. However he'd managed to calm himself when he remembered that Ichigo's dad was named Isshin.

Sure dodged a bullet with that shit.

Though in a way it would make a little more sense if he'd ended up in the Soul society or some shit considering he fucking **died**.

"….Neh Natsumi-chan?" his new mother cooed.

Which caused him to frustratingly whine out about another matter.

Just what the fuck was his name!?

His new mother always cooed and sung to him, calling him Natsumi all the while. On the other hand, his father always called him Natsu. As far as he knew one name was used for males and the other female.

"* ** _Japanese words he doesn't know*_** Natsu-chan **_*more Japanese words he doesn't know*"_**

"Natsumi-chan **_*Japanese Japanese Japanese_** * Neh? Natsu- **_*Japanese Japanese Japanese*_** Daichi!"

From what he could tell. He's at least 89% sure that his new parents were arguing over his name. From the looks of it, his mother seemed real irritated with his father. As they argued he found his tiny little baby fist moving closer to his mouth. Without any real thought he tried gnawing on the thing and- Wow, why was it so freaking fascinating!?

"Hn."

At the very Uchiha-esque response, he promptly abandoned his attempt at eating himself and stared at his new father. The sudden silence in the room only added to the rather drama like moment. Looking over to his mother he saw how her cheeks turned a very bright ruby red and found himself opening his mouth and drooling slobber.

No fucking way.

His mom speaks Uchiha!

Before he could continue drooling, his new father held him out towards his mother like he was a fucking plush toy and drolly repeated his (possible) name.

"Natsu-chan. **_Kūfuku._** "

As his new mother huffed and [he assumed] glared at his father, he couldn't stop the weird oohing sound that escaped his tiny self. The minute it left his mouth, his mother had taken him into her hold and was cooing ridiculously at him. He couldn't help but feel impressed with his father.

The man fucking used him as a weapon against his wife.

What a pro.

He found himself being cradled again in his mother's arms. Behind her, his new father rested his chin on her shoulder and they both peered down at him. On one hand- he found it creepy as shit, on the other… After all the screaming, it was kind of nice. He'd never been cradled and most of his relationship with Jonathan was spent with him being the hug giver not the receiver. He'd also never been the little spoon.

However right now, being cradled and blatantly adored by his new parents.

It all felt really nice.

He could feel his eyes growing heavy again due to the warmth and gentle rocking. The soft cooing voice of his mother singing to him wasn't bad either. He found himself wanting to cry again for a different reason.

He'd never known just how much he'd been missing in his life.

But of course, he had to die in order to experience it all.

Fuck you universe!

Just as he was ready to give in to sleeps spell once more. The freakiest as fucking shit happened. His new mother let out a delighted cheer and her hair changed from its honey blonde half do into PINK CURLS! While his eyes slammed wide open and his tiny body stiffened in absolute fear, his father then muttered something.

There was a gleam in his old man's eyes, one that could possibly be read as intrigued. It should have been the first clue that some more freaky crap was going to go down. However he couldn't feel anything other than pure unadulterated shock and what felt like the creeping sensation of terror. So when his father brought forward his hand and opened his palm, and swirling small specks of sand the exact color of his new dad's hair, appeared and began to dance.

You bet your fucking shit he screamed.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

As their child started to scream all over again. Masaki immediately held the babe closer and desperately tried to hush the child once more. Daichi could only watch the screaming little thing and muse on the probability that the kid already developed their quirk. Although logically, it shouldn't be possible for the babe to develop a voice quirk seeing as no one in either of their families had a quirk like that.

"DAICHI! You scared her again!" Masaki hysterically yelped with panic.

"Hm….. I think it was your quirk that started it." He countered with a casual shrug.

But of course, his lovely wife chose to ignore his response and try and comfort the screaming bundle a little louder. The little thing was screaming and squirming, almost as if they were trying to run away. As Masaki struggled with the child, he opted instead to grab the easy click Polaroid camera.

With a quick flash and loud snap- the moment had been immortalized forever.

"DAICHI!" Masaki screeched with frustration.

He felt the corner of his lips twitch as he started to fan the picture. By the time the picture had developed, their precious little [nightmare] miracle had recovered from their shock and began to wail again. He idly looked over the picture and smirked at the chaos captured.

"If she chooses to become a hero her name should definitely be Banshee- the screaming hero." he muttered.

Just for a second, he wondered if the babe could understand that he was teasing her. He swore that those little eyes had narrowed in his direction before they'd open their mouth and screamed even louder with vengeance.

"DAICHI! STOP TEASING HER!"

"Hn…"

* * *

 ** _Kūfuku:_** apparently should mean **Hungry.**

 **If I'm wrong please let me know.**

 **Let me know what you think :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Swear on my life, I didn't mean for this chapter to be so long. I have a real need to always make sure I give any original character I introduce alot of depth- which literally can both be great and horrible. I was gonna cut it down and continue with the sort of drabble like format I had going, but decided not to.**

 **This chapter addresses the whole sex change and gender identification thing. I'm well aware it's a topic alot of readers can get real passionate about and that some can take offense if they feel it's not done justly. Which is why this ended up so long.**

 **Next chapter we will definitly have more interaction with BNHA characters.**

 **Anyway Enjoy your read.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Childhood Do-over.**

Four years later and he was still struggling.

It wasn't the whole reincarnation thing. No, that was simple- and an easier thing to accept and move on with. He'd dealt with his personal issues towards that not long after he'd spoken his first words in this life.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

He'd been a real slow learner and he's pretty sure his new parents were getting worried he was stupid.

But for real, give a guy a break!

Learning Japanese was fucking hard. Especially when he didn't get to have cheat cards to help him remember. He had screamed himself red with frustration so many times that the first actual sentence he managed to understand completely was 'Stop, no one likes a cry baby'.

Of course it was none other than his new father who said it to his face.

Bit by bit, understanding the language got easier and easier. Then the real challenge started when he was getting past that baby age where they're supposed to start speaking.

"She's still not shown any signs of trying to speak." Masaki fretted as she fed him.

He fucking hated pumpkin mush- but apparently that shit was good for babies.

"Hn."

He tried using his tongue to spit the shit out, but of course his mother scooped it from his face and stuck it right back in.

Talk about gross.

"Daichi! I'm serious. I'm getting worried. The books said that babies should be a lot more talkative by this stage! How can we be sure she's not mute!?"

He couldn't help but peer over at his old man. He agreed with his mother, how _was_ the guy so chill about everything!? As far he's ever seen and known, new baby daddies always freaked the fuck out about their first kid. Unless…. The man HAS dealt with babies before. He better not have secret siblings in this world!

What!?

Creating made up soap drama plots about his new family had become his newest coping mechanism for his situation aka boredom.

He'd been glaring suspiciously at his new father, so was slightly startled when the man lowered his paper and met his baby glare. It only took a few seconds before he felt himself being intimidated under the weighty gaze.

"With all the screaming? Nah. She'll speak." Daichi smirked before turning to his paper.

Fuck you, new dad! Maybe he'll choose to be mute just to spite him.

Out of frustration, Masaki's hair changed to a deep red color and he could barely stop himself from whining out in shock. He was still a bit freaked out about the whole super power thing. Although on the plus side, the more often they used it around him, the less freaky it seemed. Which meant he only got more curious as to what kind of world he'd been reborn to.

Anyway, that particular conversation started him on his new mission.

Learning to speak.

It wasn't so much the whole training his tongue and mouth muscles to work and make a sentence. But more of his struggle in trying to decide on what his first word would be. He didn't want his first words to be Mama or Papa. Firstly, because his mother was not being subtle at all with how often she tried to prompt him with lullabies and repeating the word. Secondly, his Father was a fucking troll who had way too much fun provoking him.

Did his new dad do this to all babies or was it just him!?

Eventually, the choice was taken from him one lazy evening. They'd been having snuggle time on the couch- something he'd come to greatly love, having never done it before. It was the only time he was pleasant and somehow it just became routine. Masaki had been reading some fashion mag and Daichi had been flipping through channels for them to watch.

When he caught sight of a flying man in red and blue (maybe silver?)- You bet your ass he was going to watch that.

"PUUPAMAN!" He'd managed to shriek out.

He'd felt the reaction from both parents immediately. Masaki had dropped her magazine and shrieked while his father had swiftly picked him up and held him to his face. Once again Daichi stared deep into his soul. Only this time he was ready. He stared right on back with his best 'I'm a baby and I'm cute' face.

"Again." Daichi sternly ordered

He was tempted not to do it, simply because he could get away with that shit. However, he could see just how eager his mother was. The woman was practically destroying her lip in attempt to keep quiet. Though his father wasn't as expressive, he could see the excitement in the depth of his gaze.

Oh well, he'd already committed the act, might as well finish the performance.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his gob and spoke again.

"Puu-Paaa-Maaan"

He barely had time to savor the look of pride that flashed cross his father's face before he was snatched by his mother. She was shrieking with excitement and raining on his face a barrage of kisses. Most of them causing him to laugh as it tickled.

"NATSUMI-CHAN'S FIRST WORDS! SHE SPOKE HER FIRST WORDS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT DAICHI! OUR DAUGHTER'S FIRST WORDS!"

"Hn."

"OH! Oh! Where's the camera!? Get the camera we have to get the camera!"

As Masaki jolted up to search for the thing, he'd turned his attention to the remote. The buttons were also labelled in Japanese which- fucking hell- he'd have to learn eventually. So he'd settled on slapping the thing and poking randomly, hoping it'd change the channel.

This was Japan and all the tech was advanced as fuck.

Of course, Daichi wasn't content to let him entertain himself with that for long.

When his father took the remote and simply stared at him, he stared right back. Unable to help but be curious as to what the man was thinking. He'd long come to learn that between his parents, his mother was the extrovert and his father the introvert.

"Pah!" he garbled with a pout having grown bored with the staring contest.

Daichi snorted and placed a hand on his head. The man gave his hair a light ruffle and smirked at the annoyed expression he'd made.

"Knew you weren't stupid."

The praise warmed him and he gave a gummy smile in return. While Daichi clicked through the channels and Masaki continued looking for the camera. He studied his new parents and found that the agony and pain in his chest, diminished just a little bit more.

He wasn't over it.

He knew there was a possibility he'd never be okay with what it took to bring him here.

But he could accept it.

He could embrace it and love these two as much as he was able.

That was the day he'd stopped screaming and crying.

"Ah! Here we are." Daichi mumbled.

He picked him up and placed him more comfortably on his lap to watch the screen. It wasn't a movie or cartoon as he'd initially thought. Instead it looked to be a news report of some kind. While he was caught up in trying to understand everything the lady reporter was saying, he vaguely heard his dad muttering.

"They're introducing one of the interns for the second best agency."

"Neh Hah!?"

"Mmh. The kids probably interning with some big shot hero is all. He's mostly just an excuse for the reporters to attempt to interview the Hero."

"ah Buh Bah bah"

Daichi tipped his head back and looked him dead in the eye before speaking to him once more.

"Reporters are like piranha's kid. They swarm and they feast on your flesh. Avoid them."

Despite the fact Daichi was clearly having a one sided conversation. He was relieved to have one parent speaking to him like he was an adult. He's not sure why Daichi did, but he was grateful none the less. They both fell silent and true enough, the reporter switched focus when another man happened on the scene.

This man was nothing like the kid that had initially caught his attention. After all, anyone could slap on a pair of realistic looking red wings and dress up like some super hero and parade around town. He'd seen cosplayers at comic con, that shit is serious business. What no one could do, was walk about with FUCKING FLAMES ALL OVER THEIR FACES and not be burnt charcoal.

He didn't know he was wide eyed and gaping till his mother came back into the room.

"DAICHI! Why are you letting her watch this!?"

"She wanted to."

"Look at her, she looks scared! Don't you remember how she reacted to your quirk the first time?"

"You scared her first."

Though Masaki was scolding her husband, she made no move to change the channel. Instead she joined the two on the couch and watched the report with them. Not that he minded as it meant more snuggling.

"Well….. So long as she's not screaming." Masaki sighed

"Duh nuh hah?" he babbled.

Despite neither parent understanding his baby talk, they guessed correctly. Masaki cooed into his ear, using that tone all grown-ups use when they talk to babies. At least she wasn't dumbing down the words she used.

"He's a hero Natsumi-chan. The other one you called pupaman is rather new but I think they're calling him Hawks."

"Hn." Daichi affirmed as he stroked his wife's hair.

He found himself looking at his mother instead of the screen, trying to figure out her thought process towards everything. For a few seconds he got distracted by the simple fact that his new mother was absolutely gorgeous. When she continued to speak, it was a struggle for him not to get distracted again. Mostly because he was starting to wonder just how much he inherited from her and if he'd be just as gorgeous. Though, He wasn't sure if he wanted to think about that just yet.

"He's been getting a lot more publicity lately huh." Masaki mused, looking to Daichi for a response.

"He's solved a lot of his cases. It's getting him a lot of support from the public."

"Still… I'm a bit surprised"

"Hn… He's not All Might."

"No. Definitely not, the man just- He looks too angry all the time."

"Hn."

So apparently men with fire on their faces wasn't something rare. Which was incredibly helpful as it assured him his parents were not hidden aliens or something other. As the reporter interviewed the so called hero Endeavour on screen. He managed to gleam more information about the new world he was in.

And though the whole thing seemed somewhat familiar to him. He just couldn't grasp why.

It was during a live news coverage of some great attack at some mall that it all clicked in his head. He'd probably never realized just how greatly the universe fucked him over until he'd watched that clip. A muscular Blonde dressed in red with two weird hair points- laughing all the while as he rescued victims.

Then that catch phrase- That mother fucking catch phrase, and that mother fucking grin.

 _"It's fine now. Why? Because I am Here!"_

He didn't scream, and he certainly didn't cry.

But fainting?

That was doable.

Shit yeah, he passed the fuck out.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

He'd successfully taught himself how to read by his second birthday. Something he'd sought his father to help him with. Daichi Kurosaki was not one who believed in limitations apparently. There had been plenty of moments where he'd just stare at his father and wonder.

Why did the man not find him strange?

Why did he just accept whatever he did without question?

After all, he wasn't exactly acting like a normal toddler should. Already, he'd heard his mother pondering on whether he was advancing too fast. However, every time she did, Daichi was quick to respond with a casual 'Hn' and the whole thing was forgotten.

Ah, in the end he stopped caring too much about it.

It was after all helping him out.

Then when he was three, he started learning how to write. The first thing he taught himself to write was his name. Some days the Kanji still fucked him over, but 8 out of 10 times he was usually right on point. It was also the first time he tentatively tried hinting towards his new parents the truth of his sex.

Though he was physically a girl, he was mentally male and that was not going to change anytime soon.

As far he'd come to understand, Masaki was the breadwinner of the family. She started working again not long after his first birthday. He's 70% sure her job involves fashion as she usually returns and starts styling his hair. As such, he spent a lot of time with Daichi at home. The man didn't do much, mostly just cater to his needs and answer his questions.

Which is why, he was more comfortable broaching the topic with Daichi instead of Masaki.

He'd reached for a crayon and random scrap of paper. All the while trying his best not to give in to the nerves and the rising panic attack. In his last life, he'd never told a soul he was gay- in fact he kept his mouth shut for years- even after LGBT rights were being legalized. He never had to either. Not when it had been so obvious that he was in a relationship with Jonathan.

Actions speak louder than words and all that shit.

Jonathan had been a blessing found in Europe.

Literally.

He was also 21 when they met and classified as a real adult. Therefore, it didn't matter what anyone had to say. Gays were being accepted and he was in love. He didn't need to justify himself to no one.

Which also meant he'd never had to worry about what his parents would think.

Not in his previous life at least, because he didn't have parents.

Just foster parents who he'd never bonded too closely with.

Taking several deep breaths, he slowly made his way to the dining table where his father seemed to be drawing. He's not sure if it was the obvious way he fidgeted- or if it was his face screaming how scared he was. But something must have shown how serious he was being as his father looked down at him with concern.

"What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth several times.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

Trying his best to force the words 'I'm a boy' past his lips.

The tightening in his throat let him know, that just wasn't happening any time soon.

"W-wanna tell you s-something." He managed to mumble.

Daichi looked down at him and encouraged him with a slight nod.

"I-"

"I'm-"

"I-I"

He could feel his little body trembling and his stupid fucking brain wasn't helping. It kept bringing up all the happy memories he'd managed to make as a Kurosaki. All the times Daichi and Masaki would bid him goodnight with a kiss and a story. All the times they'd happily celebrate whatever dumb baby obstacle he'd just accomplished. He was risking the chance of preserving this happy little family by confessing this truth.

Just as his shitty brain was going to go on another trip of emotional torture. Daichi interfered by pulling him closer and taking the crayon and paper from his hands. Holding the two up, Daichi tapped at them and bluntly spoke.

"If you can't say it. Write it."

It helped kick his ass into gear, and determinedly he did just that. He picked up the blue crayon- a choice purposely made- and scratched out the words on the paper. When he finished, he kept his head hung low.

Trying his best to remember to breathe.

Especially when Daichi reached for the paper.

Daichi said nothing as he read the paper and the silence grew too much for him. He forced himself to break the silence and very softly whispered.

"Papa, this is me."

He wasn't expecting the hand that landed on his head, or the very affectionate ruffling of his hair.

"Of course it is."

His heart stopped and so did his breathing.

He dared not to hope and was only vaguely aware of the scratching of the crayon on paper again. Then he found the scrap piece of paper being slid before him once more. Just beneath his childish writing was his name and he gasped. Beneath the words 'I am a Boy', his father had scribbled out his name but crossed out the end. All that was left of his name was Natsu. He looked up at his father well aware that tears had been streaming silently down his cheeks for a while now. Daichi just smirked and pat him lightly on the head again.

"Knew you weren't stupid."

The sobbing that left him was fucking embarrassing but he'd never regret it. He didn't waste any more time, and he quickly ambushed his father in the tightest most desperate hug ever. As he ruined his father's shirt, he felt as if an old wound he'd never noticed had been healed.

"Love you Papa."

"Hn."

He cried himself into an exhausted sleep and was only half awake when his mother came home.

"Wow, she's really out of it neh? Just what did you two do today?"

"Draw."

"And she's that tired!? Jeez."

"Hn."

When he woke up, he found that just having been accepted by his dad was enough for him. He wasn't ready to face Masaki and do the whole thing all over again. If it was because a small part of him knew she'd struggle the most to accept his truth, well it could go fuck off and die for now. He felt amazing, and the feeling only grew when his dad greeted him with a present after breakfast.

"What is it?"

"Open it."

He didn't waste time and when the last of the wrapping fell away, he felt like crying all over again. Daichi had gone and framed the silly little scrap of paper he'd written his truth on. The golden glass frame looked so pretty and expensive. It wasn't till he looked closer that he realised there was actually detailed sculpting in the glass. A lot of it were things he'd shown interest in and it was all the proof he needed to know this truly wasn't a lie.

They placed it on the book shelf at the very top.

Strategically placed so that only he could see it when he would be in bed. Unless someone was actively looking for it, they wouldn't see it when they entered. His dad didn't ask for an explanation- it was as if he already knew why he wanted to put it up there.

"Mama next." He'd softly declared

"Hn…..Don't rush."

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Now he was Four and he'd still not done it.

He's such a fucking coward.

"Natsumi-chan?" Masaki curiously questioned.

"I-I"

Fucking say it!

"I-I'll miss you, Mama." He mumbled instead.

Yep, he was officially a cowardly shit.

Watching his mother break out into a heart melting smile was bittersweet. She squealed on about how adorable he was and what a precious little girl she had. It literally was the shittiest feeling in the world. However, she was happy- so blissfully happy with his words and the fact that her **precious daughter** was so cute. To tell her that he was a boy felt like the worst thing he could ever do to her.

When she'd left and the front door closed with a final slam. He could only stare at the door in absolute defeat. He'd been trying to confess to her for a year now. He was an utter and total failure. He heard his dad approach him and right under his nose was a plate filled with all his favorite breakfast food.

"Eat."

"Not hungry."

"Hn."

The plate was brought closer to his face and the smell was just too fucking tempting. So when fingers reached for the crispy bacon on his plate, he finally gave in.

"No! My bacon Papa." He growled before grabbing the plate and stomping back to the table.

"Hn."

"I was gonna tell her!"

"Hn."

"Was too! I just….. Got distracted."

"Hn."

"Not scared!"

"…Hn."

Stupid old man seemed to always know just what to say to piss him off. As he caved to his habit of stress eating, he tried to think of all the reasons why confessing to his mother was a good thing. However, the more he thought about it- the less he felt like doing it. Just before he could get too deep in his thoughts again, a wet substance bounced off his forehead.

"PAPA!"

"Stop moping."

"Not moping and why'd you throw a grape at me."

"It didn't hurt."

"BUT IT'S HUGE! You could have got me in the eye and made me blind!"

Daichi just scoffed and of course he took offense. Stupid old man always provoking him and making him feel like a drama queen.

"I'm telling Mama."

"About which one Natsu?"

He couldn't help but freeze and grow quiet. His father had been witnessing him struggle to tell his mother for a year now. Though Daichi never said anything it was obvious the man thought he was being ridiculous.

"You heard Mama, I'm a precious daughter." He mumbled.

He played with his fork as the silence between them stretched. He didn't bother looking up when he heard his father sigh and place his hand on his head again. The action had become incredibly comforting. It grounded him in a way and gave him enough courage to meet his father's imploring eyes.

"You are Natsumi Kurosaki and your Mama loves all of you."

"B-But I'm Natsu."

"You are also Natsumi."

He shook his head and tried to get his dad to understand him.

"But I'm NATSU!"

"You are both."

With a final pat on his head, Daichi left to start cleaning up after breakfast. He continued sitting there feeling lost. He couldn't get his head around what his dad was trying to get him to understand. He just felt confused. So when his dad asked if he wanted to go play in the garden he gave an absent nod in return.

He made a bee line straight for the sand pit his dad made for him. There was just something about being surrounded by the grainy substance that put him at ease. Maybe it had something to do with the fact it was his father's quirk? Or perhaps it reminded him of the beach and by closing his eyes he could imagine the sound of waves.

Either way the place had become his thinking spot.

A place he could spend hours in and not do anything.

"I'm Natsu. I am Natsu."

 _'You are also Natsumi.'_

He scowled at the words and felt frustrated with the irritation about the whole subject. Fuck, things had been so much simpler when he was just a gay man trying to make it through life.

Was he even classified as Gay anymore?

He could feel the angst and depression threatening to creep into his head already. It made him twitchy and anxious because he really didn't need a fucking repeat of his pre-teen years. Thank you very much.

He'd always known he'd been different. Especially with the foster homes and stuff, so when he started noticing boys more than girls he'd immediately knew something was up. When he'd been 13, it was thanks to the blessed gay porn on the net that confirmed everything. Then it was a matter of paranoia of everyone finding out. He hadn't known how lonely and isolated he felt until lgbt awareness was starting up.

This however, was an entirely different game.

He didn't feel alone or isolated. He knew without a doubt that he was loved by both his parents.

He didn't feel as if his body was wrong.

Sure he lacked a penis, but he was fucking reincarnated after being stabbed and falling from 28 floors. Having a vagina was literally not the worst thing in the world. Also, this body was **HIS** from the very start. He didn't have to kill no damn baby soul. It was **HIM** who had to suffer through the sensation of being squeezed out into the world.

So really, he had no problem with having girl parts. This body was his and he's perfect, which also meant there were very low chances of him ever getting a sex change.

He'd also experimented with drag between the ages 19 and 21. He was never able to fully embrace the drag queen in him- mostly because that demanded more energy than he had. However, he was comfortable in women's clothing.

So he doubted that would be an issue.

"Natsu-chan. Have you figured it out?"

"No." He grumbled with a frustrated whine.

"Hn…."

He let out a startled shriek when the sand beneath his butt started to move like it was alive. Four years later, seeing how casual people were about having stupid superpower's still made him uncomfortable. The sand morphed until it was shaped into a hand cradling him. He couldn't help but be impressed and awed by how easily his father could control his quirk. The man seriously must have been Gaara of the sand in his previous life with how good he was.

"Shouldn't Papa be working?" He absently commented while never once looking away from the sand.

Fun fact, his dad actually had a job. He never would have guessed his old man was a home based glass sculptor. It made sense when he thought about it since his Dad's quirk allowed him to control and create sand. He'd also been right in guessing his mom worked with fashion. She was a rather popular Hair stylist- mostly because her Quirk allowed her Hair to transform into any colour and style.

It was weird as hell, but still so freaking cool.

"You were being loud."

"Was not."

"Hn."

Stupid Jerk.

"What are you even making Papa?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Watch."

Suspicious old man.

But he obediently kept quiet and watched the man work.

It looked as if he was shaping the sand into a statue. Or maybe some kind of dwarf? He was definitely sure it's supposed to be a person though. He felt a bit triumphant when the sand finally stopped moving and was now in the shape of a small little boy. That feeling was short as without warning, the sand keeping him afloat dropped.

"PAPA!" he snapped but his father only snorted.

Daichi motioned for him to follow, all the while manipulating the sand statue to follow him.

He was so telling Masaki the stupid man dropped him.

Hah! See if he'll laugh then the jerk.

When he finally entered his father's workshop- Really it was just the shed. A place he was always warned never to enter without his father there. He immediately started sweating- the place was hot as fuck. The first time he ever entered the place, he swore it was simply proof that his father was the devil, and his workshop was the entrance to hell.

"Quiet. You're loud again."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"Hn."

The man was fucking Satan.

"Watch Natsu." Daichi sternly ordered.

After rolling his eyes, he did as he was told. He silently watched his father at work and couldn't help but be mesmerized by the process. There really was a difference in watching youtube videos' on how to make glass, and seeing it in real life. It was also obvious to him that his dad loved what he did. There was a certain air of peace and serenity around the man as he worked.

When the entire sand statue of the boy had melted into a glowing orange hot liquid, he watched his father manipulate it out with only his quirk.

Straight up- it was like real life Lava bending from Avatar.

And as a guy who'd considered the cartoon to be his religion in life- It was fucking amazing.

He watched as his father pulled and bent the liquid into shape. Occasionally using a metal rod to blow a few air bubbles in the substance. When he finally finished shaping the thing, he realized it was now a shiny glass statue of a girl.

He finally understood just what the old man was trying to say.

As Daichi moved the glass statue towards the cooling unit for all his finished work.

He was still staring at the same spot.

Though the statue had changed from being sand to glass. It was still sand- his father wouldn't have been able to manipulate it if it wasn't. Daichi just showed him that there wasn't any difference between Sand and Glass, just that they appeared different to the eye.

 _'You are both.'_ His father had said, and now he understood just what he meant.

He could be both.

"Well?" Daichi prompted with another round of his intense staring.

The stupid jerk didn't have to show off his quirk to make a point though.

Despite his thoughts, he knew he was smiling.

"I am Natsu and I am Natsumi." He softly answered

His father just smirked before placing his hand back on his head.

"Knew you weren't stupid."

When his mother came home, he was finally ready to confess his truth.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Masaki couldn't help the giddy sensation bubbling within her as she arrived home after work. The news she had to share was just too exciting. So she really didn't think anything was strange about how her four year old daughter was sitting very patiently in a chair, right in front of the door. Why should she have? Natsumi was always the first to greet her when she finished work. She was also the last to say goodbye. It had been like that for a year now.

So Masaki really didn't think much about it.

"Mama's home Natsumi-chan! Did you miss me?" She chirped before eagerly engulfing the four year old into a very tight hug.

She only got a clue something was different when the little girl squeezed her extra tightly.

"Natsumi?"

Slowly she could feel her motherly instincts tingle. Warning her that something seriously different was taking place. She pulled back and cupped the child's cheeks with both palms. Anxiously looking the child over, she worried this was signs of a cold.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

"Mama."

Masaki tried her best not to show her panic. She'd never heard her daughter sound so nervous before. In fact Natsumi had always been rather fidgety but never so obviously terrified.

"Mama, I need to tell you something."

Masaki was well aware she was considered a little young to be a mother. She'd only been 18 when she'd had Natsumi. She was used to the whispers that would start about her the minute word was out that she had a child. Most of it spoken out of jealously as she was married, rather successful and had a child. She had a lot of pride in the fact that she managed to balance the three rather well.

No one other than Daichi needed to know just how much she struggled with the pressure to maintain that balance.

Sometimes she'd envy Daichi for being able to spend so much time with Natsumi while she worked. The two shared a bond she often couldn't understand. While she knew her relationship with her daughter was not the same as Daichi's- she always felt like she was missing something.

So hearing those words from her daughter's lips certainly destroyed any giddiness she'd been feeling.

"Of course honey. You can tell me anything."

She spoke nothing but truth, yet somehow the words still tasted bitter on her tongue.

Her daughter could tell her anything, but she didn't trust herself enough to promise how she'd react. This entire interaction was scaring her, and on some level she was possibly having an anxiety attack.

So when Natsumi stepped out of her hold, she expected the worst. She expected something that would shatter her entire world. She expected to be told something horrible.

She didn't expect to be given something.

"Oh!"

Oh.

It was just a drawing in a frame.

She wondered if the relief she felt was obvious. She could feel her shoulders relaxing, could sense the cold sensation on her spine dissolving. She hadn't looked at the drawing yet, too busy trying to keep the smile on her face.

"Did you draw me a picture Natsumi-chan?"

When her daughter refused to look up, and just shook her head again. The previous anxiety came flooding back. She really didn't want to look at the picture now. However, it was obvious that she had no choice.

"Mama."

Swallowing despite the dryness in her throat, Masaki finally looked at the picture.

Ah.

"Mama?"

"Mmh?"

"I'm a-"

Masaki knows what had been said.

She could also read, but her mind was struggling to make sense of everything.

She could tell by the golden glass frame, that Daichi had made it. She knew his work well, but she could also tell that it hadn't been recently done. Automatically her mind was connecting clues she hadn't even known she'd been collecting.

Everything simply made sense.

Tearing her eyes away from the drawing, she looked at the child in front of her.

Once again it was like the truth of everything finally decided to scream in her face.

God, how had she never noticed any of this before?

"Mama…."

Masaki knew she had to say something. She'd seen a lot of movies and seen exactly what a parent should say in such a situation. However, how could she say such things? How could she tell her child 'everything would be fine', 'nothing changes' when all of it would be lies. She wasn't sure everything would be fine, because she didn't know what everything was. She couldn't say that nothing would change, because there would be changes.

She never once wanted to lie to her child- a vow both she and Daichi agreed upon. So she desperately racked her brain for some truth that she could say.

"I love you." Truth.

"I love all of you." _Because you were mine and I was yours the moment you were born._

 **"** I will always love all of you." _Because you are everything, my precious miracle child._

She could feel her eyes grow hot, and knew she was seconds away from crying. It didn't matter either way because the child before her beat her to it. Without any prompting her child ran into her arms and sobbed clutching her tightly.

"Love you Mama."

"I know baby."

Through her blur of tears, she could see that Daichi had been watching it all quietly in the background. She knew that only he could see just how close to panicking and freaking out she was.

The rest of the night felt like it was a dream for her. They did exactly as they usually did every other night. The only distinct difference was the fact Masaki stopped calling her child Natsumi-chan and used 'baby' 'sweetie' and 'honey' instead. They had snuggle time, they had story time, they shared goodnight kisses.

However, before completely closing the door- she couldn't ignore the golden framed drawing on the bedside table of her child's bed.

"Night Mama."

"Sweet dreams baby."

Afterwards, Masaki made her way quickly to her and Daichi's bathroom and promptly fell into a mess of tears and panic. She could feel her quirk going out of control and reacting to her mess of emotions. The worst part was probably the fact her mind was going into overdrive and thinking of every single worst possible scenario her baby would face in the world. Just as she felt she was reaching the point of no return, she felt her body being pulled into a tight hug.

"That's enough." Daichi mumbled as he stroked her hair.

"She's a boy, Daichi!" She whispered.

She didn't dare speak any louder just in case they'd be overheard by the child of topic.

"She's a boy and I've been- God! How long have I've been- All those times!"

"Shh…Enough."

"I didn't even notice! How could I not have- I should have known."

"Masaki."

She stopped rambling immediately and looked up at him. With her fingers twisted in his shirt and her eyes puffy from crying, she could barely see his expression clearly. When his fingers started to stroke her hair, it helped calm her panic.

"He wasn't ready yet. You didn't know." Daichi soothed

"I should have! You always knew!"

"I wanted a boy. I noticed because I was looking for signs."

"Signs that our daughter was a boy!?" she couldn't help but counter with disbelief.

Daichi shrugged in his usual dismissive manner.

"Signs that she wasn't completely girly. At most I was hoping she'd be interested in sport."

Masaki rolled her eyes because that was literally so typical of her husband.

"When did you know?"

"I suspected when she was potty training and had a habit of lifting the toilet seat up."

Masaki couldn't believe she had missed that.

"I knew when she wrote it down for me after she turned three."

On some level she wanted to hate him for being first. For being the first to witness another first time for their child. On the other hand, she was grateful because Daichi would have handled it better than she would have.

"I don't know what to do, Daichi!?"

"You be a mother."

How!? She'd wanted a daughter because she was confident that she would know how to raise one. She wanted a daughter because she knew what to expect with a girl. She prayed for a girl because she'd been afraid her past would come knocking for her son.

"She's a boy but she's still our daughter."

Masaki took a breath and nodded, knowing he was right. They remained in such a position a little while longer before she finally remembered the news she had.

"Oh! I almost forget to tell you."

"Hn."

"I got an offer from that Fashion agency. They were looking for a stylist for their models and offered me the job. Which is also great because they live somewhere near the area."

"Hn."

"Well, the head of the agency wants to meet up. She said it'll be a semi casual interview or something. She's got a kid the same age as Nat- ours and thought it'd be great to make it a play date."

"Hn."

"I think her name was Mitsuki? Not sure, but their last name is Bakugou."

"Hn."

When morning came, Masaki was nervous but determined to do better than she had yesterday. She made sure to give herself a proper prep talk in the shower. She took over cooking breakfast and made sure Daichi knew that she was going to wake up their child.

But of course, she was always the last one in the loop.

Their child had beat her to it and she wasn't sure what to do with that.

"Morning Mama!"

"Morning baby. What are you doing?"

"I was waiting for you!"

"Oh?"

"Mhm hmm."

When her child stood before her beaming, she immediately noticed what they were wearing. It wasn't like Masaki had always dressed them in anything extremely girly, just the typical pinks and flower patterned kid clothing. However, it was clear by the mossy green overall and the black dinosaur long sleeve they wore that yesterday wasn't a dream. It was also clear that Daichi had obviously done some shopping.

"Mama?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Can you do my hair now?"

Ah!

 _'She's a boy but she's still our daughter.'_

Stupid Daichi being all cryptic and mysterious.

Masaki took the brush and started to hum as she worked on a new style. She'd known that quirks always made their child a little uncomfortable. But in order to prove just how okay she was with everything, she activated it just a bit. Changing someone else's hair always took more energy and concentration, but it was worth it. She probably could have used scissors but her quirk allowed her to be more precise.

When she held the mirror up and showed her sweet child the finished product, she smiled.

"Do you like it Natsu?"

She heard how her precious little miracle's breath hitched.

"You're the handsomest baby boy a mother could have."

When Natsu turned into her embrace and just squeezed her. Masaki knew for sure in that moment that everything would be fine, and nothing would change.

* * *

 **This is probably the most spotlight Daichi and Masaki are going to get. So I decided to give them an opportunity to really shine.**

 **I hope nobody is offended or sour about the way I wrote Masaki and Daichi's reactions.**

 **I had my sister read this before and got some feed back, but I'm still a little worried on how this chapter will be received.**

 **So please, please, PLEASE!**

 **Review and let me know what you think of Natsu's development so far and how I handled this chapter.**

 **There is always room for improvement so your thoughts are welcome.**

 **Thank you !**


	4. Chapter 4

**YES IT'S AN UPDATE!**

 **Guys, girls and everything in between (T~T) words are so not enough to express how much I love you all. I'm so glad a lot of you liked the last chapter. I appreciated every review that assured me I did the whole topic justice. I'm also blown away by how much you all love Daichi and Masaki.** **Especially Masaki, I worried some might not like that she freaked out like she did and would accuse her of mean things. Before I finished the chapter, I let my sister read the draft and she was so sure I was going to make Masaki react badly. I'm glad you love her just as much as Natsu, Daichi and I do.**

 **Some of you admitted to shedding tears over the support they gave Natsu and while it's never my intention to make people cry, I'm proud of myself for doing it.**

 **This chapter took a long time to be posted, and it's only half, but I had to re-write it a couple times.**

 **After the last chapter, it just wasn't up to standard, and because I was going to introduce cannon characters, I really wanted to do it right.**

 **Anyways, I'll let you all read.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Friends & a Funeral Part 1**

"Natsu-chan?"

He felt guilt fester at seeing the obvious concern in his mother's eyes. He didn't often take note of just how similar a blue they were to the sky. How could he not when the blue of the sky was the last thing he'd seen before he died.

"Hn," he drolly replied.

Masaki giggled and the bell like sound relaxed the broody mood overwhelming him.

"You sound just like your Papa doing that," she teased.

"Do not!" he pouted.

Hell no was he anything like his troll old man. Masaki only laughed and he sighed while glaring at the floor. She started to hum a soft tune and stroke his hair. It was distracting but best of all it was very comforting.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to Natsu-chan," she assured.

He felt shittier at that.

A week had passed since he'd settled matter's about his gender with his parents. Everything should have been all rainbows and happy families after that, right? Wrong! Of course the universe would decide it was time for him to be tormented with his fucking death. Of course he had to have nightmares about how he died right after his parents accepted him.

Because why the fuck not, right?

Fuck you universe and the fucking trauma he's suffering.

"Do you want to tell Mama about it?" Masaki whispered in his ear.

She'd been asking him the same question each night. Daichi and Masaki had been very attentive to him since his nightmares had started. The only way he ever managed to calm down from a nightmare was to realize Masaki was cradling him in her arms. He never screamed himself awake but both his parents always seemed to know.

"Don't want to," he mumbles into her shirt.

He's a grown ass man who's had some freaky shit happen to him.

He can't keep throwing them so many curve balls.

He only just told them he was a boy!

"Okay baby."

Masaki doesn't push him to talk. She just holds him tightly in her arms and silently lets him know she's there.

"Masaki?"

"In here!"

Daichi finds them just like that. He knew his old man wasn't much for comforting people; something he'd noticed since he'd been a babe. It's not like Daichi had ever treated him like a real baby anyway.

"What are we doing?" he asks before settling down with them.

"Mmh, Natsu-chan?" Masaki prompted.

'Last chance' she seems to be implying. He's tempted to take it, but to do so would be selfish. Masaki was really excited about this job interview. He'd be a real dick to ruin it for her.

"Fine, gonna go get ready," he mumbled with a huff.

He felt her relax and felt another twinge of guilt. For Masaki, he'd ignore his gloom and misery and go to the park meeting thing. He felt a heavy hand settle on his head and ruffle his hair.

"Good boy," Daichi praised with a smirk.

"Not a dog Papa!" he snapped before shoving the hand off and giving him a glare.

"Hn."

Stupid old man! He opened his mouth to bite the hand patting him, but Masaki beat him to it and slapped Daichi's hand.

"How many times do I have to tell you stop teasing him Daichi!?" she scolded.

"Hn."

"What! No we're not running laaaate- OH NO! Natsu-chan we-"

"Got it Mama! I'll be quick."

"You're the best, baby!" she praised.

She kissed his cheek quickly and then rushed to get ready herself. He watched her go and slowly shook his head.

"Papa mean," he grumbled.

"Hn."

"Jerk."

"Hn."

"I am going to get ready."

"Hn."

"I'm gonna tell Mama you changed the clock."

"Hn."

Sneaky old troll.

It was only when he was alone without either of his parents nearby; that the gloomy angst overwhelmed him once again. He stared at his wardrobe. He ignored his bed, having not used it for several nights. Instead, he'd been sleeping with his parents. It didn't stop his traitorous mind from thinking about his stupid nightmares. He stared a little harder at his wardrobe, trying to find something to wear.

"Natsu-chan! Are you ready!?"

He blinked rapidly and was shocked to find he'd been crying. He hadn't even realized he'd changed out of his favorite dinosaur shirt and frog overalls. He stared at his four year old reflection. He'd changed into a cute black laced dress that ended just above his knees. It had no sleeves and looked much too nice to wear to the park. He also had on cute white ruffled socks with a hair clip in his hand.

"Natsu-chan? Did you not hear me-"

Masaki gave a soft gasp at seeing him. It dawned on him that it'd been a week since he'd last worn any of his feminine clothes. He couldn't explain, all he knew was that it felt right and the dress he wore reflected his mood.

"Mama? Can I wear this?" he asked softly.

Masaki giggled lightly and took the clip from his hand. She combed her fingers through his hair and smoothed it out before clipping it into place. She smiled at him and he marveled at just how gorgeous his mother truly was. '

"Of course Natsumi-chan. You always look perfect."

He couldn't stop the sniffle he gave and was fucking embarrassed. Did he care? No, not when he was blessed to have wonderful and accepting parents like Daichi and Masaki. Daichi walked them to the door and gave Masaki a sweet kiss. He bent over so they were at eye level. He stubbornly stared back, matching his father's intense stare with no intention of backing down.

"Be a good girl for Mama."

The burst of warmth in his chest over powered any gloom haunting his thoughts. He smirked back at his old man and cheekily imitated his favorite phrase.

"Duh Papa! Knew you weren't stupid."

"Brat."

"Mama!"

"Daichi!"

"Hn."

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

No one really notices just how fucking shitty their feeling until they're left alone.

The walk to the park had been- dare he say it- rather fun. Masaki held his hand and sang a catchy little rhyme; flowers bloomed and rainbows shined and somewhere in the world a unicorn was shitting gold. He twirled about in his dress, giggling like the child he physically was; finding the tapping of his glossy mary janes hilarious. He waved and smiled at the old grannies watching from their windows; rightfully smug at hearing how they called him adorable and cute.

It was an awesome walk.

When they actually reached the park, Masaki urged him to play, looking rather nervous. It was then he remembered that this was a really important interview and not just a play date. He could tell by her hovering that she was using him to stall. For the record- he was positive she'd ace the whole thing. She was his mom and he had awesome as hell parents. Still, everyone needed a bit of cheering every now and then.

He tugged at her dress until she leaned down, close enough for him to smack a quick kiss on her cheek. He smiled wide and gave a fist pump into the air.

"You're awesome Mama!" he cheered.

Let it be known, that the power of an adorable child face is nothing to be scoffed at.

It worked like magic.

She nodded back at him with determination, copied his fist pumped strolled off with confidence in her stride. He couldn't have been any prouder to call her his Mama. Only after she left did everything go back to being shit.

It was the laughter and loud cheering that did him in.

He found himself suddenly frozen and couldn't look away. They were so lively- so bright and real.

So…..

 **Alive.**

Masaki and Daichi usually kept him at home unless they had errands to run. Daichi was home schooling him and so far neither of his parents seemed to have friends. At least none they thought to bring home. As such, he may or may not have taken advantage of the situation and ignored the fact he was in a manga/anime.

It was one thing to watch heroes on TV, another to see his parents use their quirks; but none of that was as fucking terrifying as seeing an entire community happily doing the same out in the open. On some subconscious level, he must have been in denial; ignoring the problem in hopes it'd eventually go away. A habit from his last life that seemed to have followed him.

Right before his eyes, was a girl with a monkey tail and ears; by the swing was a boy pushing himself with some wind sort of quirk. A few benches were occupied by parents- a crocodile looking lady, a mother literally drooling lava and a father with horns.

"STOP VILLAIN!"

He jumped at the cry as a group of boys came rushing pass him, chasing after another.

"It's fine now. Why?" another started before together as a group they all shouted.

"BECAUSE I AM HERE!"

He vaguely took note of how breathing was starting to get harder. He could feel his chest growing cold at the base of his spine, moving towards the center of his chest. Just as his thoughts started to flash back to his nightmares, something collided into him and knocked him to the ground on his back.

Suddenly everything was just silent.

He heard nothing, felt nothing.

All he could do was stare at the endless blue above him.

He wondered if this is what he last felt.

If instead of being reincarnated, he would have been trapped in his cold corpse staring at the sky.

"A-ah! I-I'm sorry! Are you alright?" a meek voice cried.

He didn't move- couldn't really, not when he was too busy thinking about his corpse. Besides, he was dead right? Dead bodies don't do anything. He continued to stare at the sky and said nothing.

"Neh? D-do you need help?"

Soon the endless blue was gone and replaced by luminous green. The face above him had such round eyes- it felt as if God tried to stuff every ounce of innocence he could into them. It should be illegal for someone to have eyes like that. Then he got distracted by the scattering of freckles on the child's face. All the little green thing would need was a halo and his angel atheistic would be complete.

Shit maybe he really did die again!?'

"Oi! Deku!" someone called

The green eyed angel child above him looked away.

"A-ah! Coming just w-wait a b-bit!"

The child looked down at him and smiled awkwardly.

"H-here let me help you up."

He took one look at the pudgy hand being offered and felt the cold inside him melt just a little. A child this sweet should literally not exist. Let alone be so sweet to his asshole self. He didn't deserve something like that, which is why he ignored the hand and sat up on his own.

"I'm fine."

"B-but I-"

"DEKU! HURRY UP!"

"Go. Your friends are waiting." He urged.

He visibly saw the conflict on the child's face. He pointedly focused on dusting his dirtied dress, hoping the kid would simply feel awkward and leave. It worked perfectly and he inwardly smirked at his genius. The small victory didn't last long as once again he was alone and it all came flooding the fuck back.

PTSD was a bitch.

The world seemed to shift and all he could think about was the cold sensation of his insides. The thoughts in his head taunted him and screamed. They repeatedly whispered in his mind Jonathan's words. Despite the loud children around him, he'd never felt more alone and lost since his rebirth.

He wonders if that's the reason the empty sand pit seemed to call to him.

He wonders if that's why he felt the need to pick up the shovel and start digging.

It was only simple logic and it made sense to his brain.

Dead bodies needed to be buried right?

He loses himself to the motions of digging; idly mapping out the exact length and width he'd need to dig for his body to fit. He tries his best not to think too hard about what he's doing. He takes no notice of the curious green eyes that never stray far for long. Instead he wonder's just how deep he plans to dig; mostly because he doubts he could dig a 6ft deep grave before his mother finished her interview.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Izuku tried his best to pay attention to Kaachan's story. He really did! It was just really hard. The girl he'd accidentally ran into earlier was still there. He worried that she might be mad at him. After all he made her fall and dirtied her pretty dress. Although he said sorry he still felt as if she was mad at him. She hadn't said she'd forgiven him! So that must mean she's still mad.

"OI! Deku pay attention!" Bakugou snapped before throwing the ball at his face.

Unprepared to catch it, Izuku yelped as it hit him in the face.

"Ow! Kaachan that hurt." He cried with teary eyes.

"You should have caught it then. Geez how useless can you get Deku." Bakugou laughed with a shake of his head.

He rubbed at his nose hoping the stinging feeling would go away. Around him the other kids just laughed and joined Bakugou in calling him names. He tried his best not to cry as he knew crying would just make Bakugou angrier.

"Neh Bakugou! Let's play Heroes again." One of the boys cheered.

Izuku sat up with eyes wide in excitement. He loved playing heroes- it was one of his favorite games to play.

"Can we Kaachan!? If we do, can I be All Might this time?" he excitedly asked

Bakugou looked at him with an annoyed expression. The other boys were making faces too and seemed to be laughing at him. However, he took no notice. Izuku never noticed anyone else most of the time. He was too focused on Bakugou, waiting to hear just what his amazing friend would say.

"No way Deku."

"B-But why not?"

"You're way too slow to be All Might. You'll be the victim- I'll be All Might and save you."

Izuku couldn't help but feel sad. It's not that he didn't think Bakugou wouldn't be great as All Might. It's just that he was always the one being saved. Just this once he wanted to be the one to save someone.

"But I'm always the one being saved." He mumbled weakly.

"That's because you're so useless. Just let Bakugou be All Might already, Deku." Another boy huffed.

Izuku didn't really hear him. He was too busy feeling hurt. He should be used to always being told no. They never let him choose a game or even let him be All Might. They always call him names and it's not fun always being the one teased.

"Okay! You got it Deku!?" Bakugou addressed.

"Wha-what was that Kaachan?" He stuttered

He hadn't even noticed that he'd started watching that girl again. She was still digging in the sand pit all by herself. It was almost as if nobody else even saw her. In his distracted state he didn't notice the irritation on Bakugou's face.

"I said Koushiro's the villain so you have to start running so he can chase you."

Izuku doesn't know why he says it. He doesn't even think about it- it just comes out. However once he says it he realizes it's the truth.

"What did you say?" Bakugou repeats with a glare on his face.

"I-I don't want to be the victim." He repeats

He's clenching his eyes so tight both in panic and fear. He doesn't want to see how angry Bakugou's probably gotten with him. Bakugou hates people who don't listen. Izuku never thought one day he'd be one of those who'd not listen too.

"Fine. If you don't want to be the victim then you don't get to play at all."

"No! W-wait!" He scrambles to say but Bakugou smirks at him without care.

"I don't play with babies, Deku. Be the victim or don't play."

There's a tense silence among their group. No one dares to say anything and Bakugou just stares at him waiting. Izuku knows this is the part where he say's sorry and agrees to play the victim. He knows that's what Bakugou is waiting for- an apology.

And yet.

He still doesn't say anything.

He knows he's not going to the minute he looks at his feet rather than Bakugou's face. As such he misses the strange look that flits across Bakugou's face before it's replaced with a dismissive sneer.

"Fine. Let's go guys, Takuya can be the victim."

"What about Deku?"

"Deku's not playing."

Izuku only realizes he's crying when everyone's back has turned. It's not the other boys leaving that he watches, instead he can't look away from Bakugou's back. He feels a clenching sensation in his stomach and his tears fall harder.

It's the first time he realizes he never wants to see Bakugou walking away from him.

Just as he's about to chase after him and say sorry. He's distracted by the sound of digging. Once again he finds his attention snagged by the girl from before. She's still digging and no one else looks to be with her.

Izuku will never really know why he does it.

But instead of chasing after Bakugou as he usually did, his feet took him elsewhere.

Through the blur of his tears, he looks at the girl in the black dress. He hesitates just a little bit but then finds it in him to actually speak.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

"What are you doing?" a meek voice questioned with a small sniffle.

He stops digging and is surprised to see it's the same kid from earlier. He finds himself staring at the obvious tear streaks on the kids face. The asshole in him wants to tell the kid to fuck off and mind his own shit. If it were any other child, he probably would have; but this kid was channeling that angel aesthetic way too fucking much.

If he ever did die again, he did want to make it to heaven you know.

Making the most angelic kid he's ever seen cry would probably screw that up.

"Digging," he honestly answers with a curt tone.

He thinks the kid would leave him alone after that. After all, there's nothing particularly fun about digging a hole.

"Why?"

He's wrong of course- because you know, why the hell not.

He turns away from his looking-to-be-decent-sized hole and peers closely at the green boy. The kid's eyes are still red but he's not bawling or anything. He'd never liked to see people cry, it always made him uncomfortable, now isn't any different. He looks pass the green child and spies the group he'd been playing with.

What he wasn't expecting was to be glared at by a blonde demon child.

He only registers two very important things following that;

One.

Is that little shit fucking glaring at **him?**

And two.

Holy Fuck! Who has naturally red eyes of such color?

The blonde shit doesn't falter at being caught staring. Instead the kid literally somehow manages to increase the intensity. He could literally feel the utter hatred being directed at him.

Who even was this brat?

Would it be too much if he simply flipped the kid off?

He inhales deeply and counts to three before releasing it with a heavy sigh. He reminds himself that he's here for Masaki, not to pick fights with blonde shits who could fuck off. He'd actually forgotten he wasn't alone until the green boy speaks again.

"Hime-chan?"

He's read and watched plenty of manga and anime as a teen to know that he'd just been called a princess. He was a lot of things; asshole, dickhead, awesome, but princess was so not one of them.

"What?" he blurted in shock.

As if he hadn't already melted his heart enough, the green angel blushes a dark red.

"I'm sorry! I-I just- I don't know your name a-and you look v-very pretty in your dress. I'm sorry."

No but seriously- was this kid even legal!?

He could feel his face burn with a blush of his own. It wasn't fair! This was practically an ambush! He'd grown so used to being around just Daichi and Masaki, he totally forgot other saintly blessed humans existed. He was also aware that children had no filters till about the age of 24 and often blurted their honest thoughts.

He needed a distraction ASAP or he'd die of embarrassment from being called pretty by a broccoli angel.

"Natsumi! My name is Natsumi!" he all but shouted.

The green cherub looked startled before his face literally brightened into a wide eyed grin.

"Pretty! My names Izuku."

The burning of his ears was no joke. Despite his efforts he still felt awkward in the face of the compliment and hastily turned back to digging his hole.

"Please don't call me pretty. Also I'm busy," he managed to mumble.

The confusion and sad look Izuku wore gut him right in the feels. He was beyond certain the child before him was the next Jesus Christ, sent down to destroy all evil and save their ungrateful worthless souls.

"O-oh! Sorry."

"Please stop saying sorry."

"S-sor- Ah!"

Oh.

Oh shit.

Fuck, the kid looked like he was going to cry. He scrambled to say something-anything to hold up the tears, when he caught sight of the demon blond watching. He blurted his words out with little thought.

"Why aren't you with your friends?"

Izuku froze before he hesitantly looked behind him. Coincidentally, the demon blond was looking elsewhere and had started yelling orders at the other kids. The expression Izuku wore was just so sad. It looked like he was-

Oh.

Just a second.

He knew that expression.

He'd seen that look before and felt kinship bloom within him for the boy.

It was yearning.

If anyone bothered to look deeper into the expression, they would probably find the hidden hurt and disappointment mixed deep within its depths. The earlier gloom he felt returned with a vengeance and he suddenly knew exactly what to say to cheer Izuku up.

"Did you want to play with me?"

Izuku turned away from the subtly watching blond boy. While his eyes were still a little sad; they were slowly brightening with curiosity. He tried not to overthink and grow anxious about further interacting with the kid. When Izuku next spoke, there was less hesitance and more hope in his tone.

"C-can I-I be All Might?"

Ok.

As cute as the kid was- there was no way in hell they were playing that.

He had a hole to finish digging and….

He spent a few more seconds really looking at the kid. The cold sensation slowly returned and slithered its way closer to his chest. He stared at the green haired, wide eyed freckled boy and bit his lip.

He shouldn't.

It would be a dick move and who the fuck knows what consequences the kid would suffer mentally.

But….

He needed this.

He took a measured breath and thought 'Fuck it' before he whispered his next question.

"Do you-…. Have you ever been to a funeral?"

He'd already died, why not take the risk and buy himself a ticket straight to hell anyway.

* * *

 **This could have been longer but I didn't want to exceed over 7,000 words. Unlike the last chapter, I'm not writing about an important and controversial subject such as sexuality or gender identity. It's literally just a bit of gloom and light angst. In other news, I'm aiming to post part 2 by Saturday so here's a hoping.**

 **Please review and offer feedback! I really do want to do BNHA justice and don't want to screw up Bakugou, Izuku or any of the characters.**

 **Thank you for the reads x**


	5. Chapter 5

**As promised, here's part 2 :)**

 **Enjoyx**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Friends & a Funeral Part 2**

Katsuki was not staring.

He wasn't.

He didn't care about what stupid Deku and that Weird girl were doing.

He didn't.

"HELP! ALL MIGHT SAVE ME!"

Katsuki scowled and ran to chase after the kid being the villain.

It did nothing to stop him from constantly glancing back towards the sand pit. Right at that moment, he saw stupid Deku start to smile widely as he talked to the weird girl. Katsuki found his fists clenching and when he reached the villain, he punched him hard on the shoulder rather than simply tag him.

"Ow! Kaachan that hurt!"

"SHUT UP!" he snapped

Hearing the stupid nickname that green eyed loser gave him made him angry.

"Kaachan don't you think you're being kind of rough." Another boy warily said.

He felt even angrier and glared at that kid too.

This wasn't the first time they'd played Hero. He usually had a lot of fun playing as All Might and beating the Villains. Only this time Deku wasn't playing with them. Somehow, that just really made him angry. He didn't even know why.

"I said shut up. He's the villain and villains get beat up. All Might punches villains all the time."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to hit me so hard."

"What are you going to cry?" He taunted.

"N-No."

Katsuki suddenly remembered the crying face of a certain green haired kid. The memory only making him even more annoyed.

"I don't play with babies." He huffed before turning and walking away.

He heard them start to talk about him, he could feel their eyes on his back. Katsuki was used to people staring at him. It was normal for him, having grown up as a child with fashion famous parents. The staring wasn't new, but the sudden overwhelming anger he felt was.

This was all stupid Deku's fault.

If their moms hadn't been friends, Katsuki would bother hanging out with the loser. Deku was useless at everything and cried easily. He found it so annoying that the idiot always awed at everything he did.

Katsuki came a stop when he heard familiar sound of mumbling.

He hadn't even thought of where he was walking. Somehow his feet had him trailing behind the green haired boy without his knowledge. Katsuki quickly hid behind a tree and watched the boy with a glare. Deku was picking flowers and wanted to know why. He followed the other boy for a while and slowly his anger gave way to a different feeling.

Deku looked happier and Katsuki couldn't stop looking.

He'd seen the stupid loser smile and laugh.

He knows it doesn't take much to make him happy.

But this looked different.

When he heard Deku let out a laugh of triumph his gut twisted unpleasantly.

"Natsumi-chan will like these!" he heard him chirp before he rushed back towards the sand pit.

Katsuki suddenly felt sour and resumed his glaring at the girl. He wanted to stomp up to dumb Deku and the weird girl and kick sand in her face. He couldn't explain the sudden hatred he felt towards the girl.

Deku looked to be having fun.

Didn't he always want the idiot to get lost and leave him alone?

Katsuki growled and forced himself to go find his mom.

He suddenly wanted to go home.

He found his mom talking with Auntie Inko and some other lady. He barely cared to give any of the other women any attention. Instead, he rudely interrupted whatever they were talking about with an irritated grunt.

"Oi old hag! How much longer till we go?"

He yelped when his mom turned around and whacked him on the head.

"Why you disrespectful brat! Don't be so fucking rude!" she snarled.

He fought her hand and glared at her. He vaguely heard the other lady he didn't know gasp in shock, while Auntie INko only giggled and tried to calm his mother down.

"Neh! Mitsuki, I'm sure Katsuki is just tired."

Katsuki would have said something back if the other lady hadn't spoken instead.

"A-ano, is this your son Bakugou-san?"

He heard his mom scoff before insisting the other lady used her name. He was just relieved she released his head. The rough treatment made his neck hurt and he tried to bite at her hand when she reached for him again.

"Yeah, this brat is mine. Named him Katsuki, though I don't where he learnt to be so damn disrespectful."

"Get off me you ugly hag," he growled.

Recently, his parents had sat him down and explained their quirks to him. It was why he started calling his mom an old hag in public. He hated that people would tell her she looked way too young to have a kid; or when they would mistakenly think she's an intern rather than the boss. He especially hated the idiots who thought she was babysitting her little brother.

Katsuki had no intentions to stop calling her a hag, anytime soon.

The lady he didn't know bent to his level and held her hand out. He stared it at and then stared at her. She was a very pretty lady and could almost rival Auntie Inko in the angel mom category. Katsuki grew up around fashion and had developed a great eye for detail. Immediately he started to study the woman. She was of a good height- almost the same as his mom. She'd be able to work most dresses and skirts without looking stumpy. Although the sweater she wore made her look thick around the shoulders.

She didn't look like the usual models his parent's hired; too homey looking- much like Auntie Inko.

"Hello Katsuki. My name is Masaki Kurosaki."

She didn't call him chan, and she greeted him like he was a grown up. He tried not to show his surprise as most grown-ups asked him stupid baby questions, and treated him like a baby. She held out her hand like he'd seen men do for his dad. Katsuki suddenly found himself thinking her hair was pretty. It was pretty like Auntie Inko's green hair, but a different pretty. It was long and very shiny the colour reminded him of golden honey syrup.

He couldn't help but like her just a little bit.

"Tch, Katsuki Bakugo."

He kept his back straight and stared her right in the eye. He perfectly copied his dad's way greeting people when he was working. She smiled at him and gave a light giggle and he was mortified to feel his face start to burn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"W-whatever," he grumbled before hastily pulling his free.

He heard his mom laugh and Auntie's Inko's giggling, which only spurred him to yell.

"Shut up, you old Hag!"

He soon after found himself in another head lock.

"HAVE SOME RESPECT!"

"Ngaw, that was so cute of you Masaki! Kaa-chan looked so grown up when he shook your hand. He's going to grow into a very handsome young man, neh Mitsuki?" Auntie Inko praised.

Masaki laughed and tugged at the end of her long hair before she spoke.

"Ah! It's just, Katsuki reminded me a lot of my own child. Natsumi-chan gets the same look in her eyes when my husband teases her. I suppose it's just habit and experience."

He felt his mom laugh before she finally let him go.

"Well that settles it then. Masaki Kurosaki, you're hired!"

"Oh! A-are you sure? Just like that? Don't you need to think about it or discuss it with your husband?"

"Nah, Masaru already wanted to hire you after reading your application. It was me who wanted to meet you. Not going to lie- totally worth it. Bonus points to you for also not being an ass to my kid."

He growled when she mentioned and realized the old hag had used him.

Stupid Hag.

The women started to talk and he quickly grew bored. Now that it was over, surely they would be able to leave. Once again, he realised he was staring over to where the sand pit was. He couldn't see it from where he was but he felt sour again. When Masaki started to fret about finding her daughter so they could leave, his traitorous mother volunteered him.

"Katsuki can do it, just give the brat her description and he'll manage. No point in looking ourselves when we got a free minion. Besides, I was gonna send him off to find Izuku- Inko's angel boy- anyway."

"Bite me you lazy old hag! You can go find stupid Deku and that girl yourself," he snapped.

Another swipe at his head him yelping.

"Ah! That's okay, I can find her myself. Really! Katsuki doesn't have to bother if he doesn't want to."

Katsuki gritted his teeth and felt bad. Before he could think about it any longer, he grumpily spoke.

"What's her name?"

"Eh?"

"Your daughter, what's her name? Might as well get her since I'm gonna get dumb Deku anyway."

He flushed a dark pink when Auntie Inko awed at him and his mom started to boast. To make things worse, the lady smiled at him and he found the blue of her eyes to sparkle brightly. It made him think of the sky on a beautiful day.

"If you're sure Katsuki. My daughter's name is Natsumi, thought it shouldn't be too hard to find her. She's wearing a black lace dress and probably stands out in it. It's actually one of her more formal clothes, but I just couldn't say no when she asked to wear it. She's just too cute."

The mother's started to talk about kids clothes and other things, but he wasn't listening anymore. He suddenly knew just who Masaki's daughter was and felt angry again. Just his luck, of course it would be weird girl. He stomped his way to the sand pit and could already feel his fingers curling into fists.

He couldn't explain why he felt so angry, just that he was.

He fully planned on screaming on the two stupid babies to get their butts over to him so he could go home; but the words never came. Katsuki blinked in surprise at only finding Deku in the sand pit. He couldn't see weird girl anywhere near. Only Deku, a big red bucket upside down and some flowers. Deku wasn't doing anything but staring at the bucket.

He looked about but still couldn't find weird girl, and the park was already growing empty as people left. Resigned, he huffed and made his way over to the green haired child.

"Oi Deku, where's that weird girl? Our moms are waiting so we can go home."

Deku didn't answer him.

Katsuki grew irritated with the silence and stomped closer.

"OI! I'M TALKING TO YOU IDIOT!" he snapped.

He was going to push the loser, but didn't expect Deku to turn to him so suddenly. Katsuki froze instantly when those green eyes met his. Deku's face was scrunched up and red, his eyes were shiny and his lip trembled in a pout.

Crap.

Katsuki knew exactly what that ugly face meant.

God.

Deku was going to cry.

"K-Kaa-chan," Deku warbled.

Oh crap.

"What the hell is with that face!?" Katsuki hissed in near panic.

He hated crying Deku.

"K-Kaa-chan…. *sniff sniff*"

"What! Damnit DEKU if you start crying I'm gonna-"

"K-Kaa-chan, Natsumi-chan s-she…."

Katuski was not panicking- He wasn't! He wouldn't panic just because the cry baby looked sad.

"Just spit it out already!" he growled.

"NATSUMI-CHAN!" Deku wailed before waterfall tears burst from his eyes.

"Damnit! Izuku! Stop crying and explain already!"

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Natsu could tell Izuku didn't want to do it. He could see it clear as day on the sweet angels face. He didn't take it back or pretend it was a joke. He couldn't ignore the strong need he felt to do this. So, he ignored the thoughts in his head that told him he was being a morbid fucker and to leave the child out of it. Instead, he readily got into the hole and started to encourage Izuku to bury him. The weight of the sand comforted him and it chased the cold in his chest away. Eventually, he couldn't move anymore and was incredibly still.

"Now what, Natsumi-chan?"

He was buried up to his neck, but his head was still exposed.

"Now, you put the bucket over my head."

He could hear how his dead his voice sounded.

It dawned on him just how vulnerable he was. Izuku could hurt him, kick sand in his face and leave him unable to escape. He had no way to defend himself, too deeply buried in the sand and held captured. He saw the big bucket and lowly whispered for Izuku to put it over his head. He saw how Izuku hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

"Neh, Natsumi-chan, how exactly do you play funeral?"

He swallowed and faked the biggest smile he possibly could.

"It's easy Izuku, you just have to say Good-bye."

"O-okay."

Izuku lowered the bucket and fully covered him. The first thing his body and mind did was panic. It was so quiet and dark, nothing but silence all around him. He squirmed suddenly desperate to free himself. It was no use- he couldn't move and it horrified him. He felt the urge to scream for help- he wanted to be free but no sound passed his lips.

He died.

He was dead.

Dead bodies don't feel.

Dead bodies don't scream.

Dead bodies are supposed to be buried.

Dead hearts don't beat.

Then he heard it.

A sniffle.

A hitching breath and warbling voice.

"Natsumi-chan, I don't know h-how to s-say goodbye at a funeral."

A funeral.

Did he even have one?

Did anyone attend?

Morbidly he wonders what his dead corpse looked like splattered on the pavement. He had no real friends- Jonathan had been his only constant. Though he sent the occasional post card, he didn't have any solid ties to his Foster families. He'd been a bartender at a rather shoddy club and bar. Just another face in the nightlife- easy to forget.

Jonathan had been the reason he died.

He had no one else.

Would anyone have attended his funeral and cried for him?

He closed his eyes and behind dark lids, images formed. He sees it all so clearly- a grave yard full of empty chairs and a casket in the centre. The casket is open and his male corpse stares up at the clear blue sky with closed eyes. He starts to walk towards the casket suddenly desperate to be closer to the man he died as.

 _"This world, it doesn't deserve you."_

He turns to look behind him and there Jonathan stands. Among the empty chairs, only his ex-love and killer is present. Natsumi Kurosaki is too small and so Jonathan stands tall before him. Jonathan smiles down at him and it's a sweet expression- loving even.

 _"I promise in the next world you'll be happy."_

He feels his breath hitch and his heart burns- not with love but with hatred. The anger consumes him until it is all he knows. He hates the man before him. Hates and hates so greatly he feels insanity threatening to steal his mind. Jonathan smiles wider and looks proud, as if he is satisfied with what he has done. He can't stand being silent no more and spits out his words with venom.

 _"You took from me my life. My choice! I loved you and you killed me."_

He looks back at his male corpse and feels tears stream down his child cheeks. Jonathan had been right- a fact that he hates above all else- he was happier now than he was then. In his before life, he'd not felt loved by anyone but Jonathan; and Jonathan used that love to kill him. Natsumi Kurosaki knew nothing but the feeling of being loved. Daichi and Masaki loved him beyond reason- accepted him for everything he was and may possibly be.

He feels wet hands cup his child cheeks and turns. Jonathan beams down at him with such loving eyes- eyes he once thought beautiful even as he died, but now seem hollow. He spies the dripping red substance on Jonathan's hands and knows that it is his blood that stains it. He trembles when Jonathan smiles at him and speaks again.

 _"I love you."_

He cries and steps away from Jonathan- away from his casket, away from the lies of his before life. Jonathan watches him go and continues to smile, looking so completely sane it hurts.

"Natsumi-chan?" a young voice calls from a bright light.

Jonathan mouths the words but his new name on those lips feels wrong. He turns and he runs, all the while crying silent tears for all the things he lost. He runs and he cries until finally he opens his eyes. He's still under the upside down bucket, still buried in the sand. However, despite the weight of the sand keeping him still, he feels lighter. He feels free and he smiles as he whispers.

"Good-bye."

He died and dead bodies don't breathe.

But he is Natsumi Kurosaki.

And she still has long to live.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

"DEKU SHUT UP AND STOP CRYING! I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUR SAYING YOU IDIOT!"

He's enough of an asshole to feel relieved that it's not him dealing with the crying child. He hears the crying taper off into sniffles and feels mildly impressed with whoever just got Izuku to stop. Apparently you could yell at a child and have it stop crying.

Who knew?

"Now, explain already! Where the hell is weird girl and why the hell are you crying over a bucket?"

Wait.

Is he supposed to be weird girl?

Oh fuck you little brat.

"Natsumi-chan and I were playing a game a-and she asked me to say g-good-bye b-but I don't know how to say good-bye."

Fuck.

He really was a dick for putting sweet Izuku through this. He suddenly really wanted to punch himself in the face. Maybe lady luck was on his side? What are the chances the kid even knew what a real funeral meant?

"What kind of stupid game is that?"

"Natsumi-chan called it funeral."

A heavy silence followed after that and he just knew he was screwed.

"Say that again."

Ah.

Fuck.

"Funeral? Why Kaa-chan?"

Shit.

"Deku, I'm going to ask you once and only once and you're going to tell me the truth. Where exactly is weird girl?"

Shit.

"I buried over there. Why Kaa-chan?"

Fuck.

Fuck.

Shit!

SHIT!

"You buried. Weird girl. Over there. Under the bucket."

"Yuh-huh."

Oh he is so fucked.

*Knock Knock*

He flinched at the how loudly the sound echoed in his ears. Should he answer? Should he stay quiet? The adult in him that was responsible and mature, urged him to answer before he made the situation any more traumatising than he already had.

However…..

A devious idea was slowly taking root in his head. He'd already messed up one kid, what the harm in messing up another? At least they'll have company, right? Evidently, at the core of heart he really was an asshole.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

Izuku felt nervous when Natsumi didn't answer any of him and Bakugou's calls. He wasn't scared-he wasn't! He was only worried and the longer she stayed under the bucket, the more his panic grew.

"Deku, are you sure she's under the bucket?" Bakugou repeated with forced patience.

Izuku could only nod his head. Why did Bakugou look at him like that when he told him they were playing funeral? What's wrong with funerals?

"I'm going to lift the bucket okay," Bakugou said.

He only nodded but couldn't ignore how the playground was really quiet. He followed Bakugou's lead and when the blond boy lifted the bucket-he gasped. Natsumi was still there but her hair covered her face. Izuku didn't think it was a little scary until he heard Bakugou whisper 'what the hell' at his side.

Natsumi looked like she was just a head.

"Natsumi-chan? A-Are you o-okay?"

She didn't answer him and it started to scare both boys.

"Hey! Freak girl! Answer us already!"

Izuku almost took a step forward but Bakugou was braver. The blond boy squatted close and moved to poke at the head. Just as Bakugou's finger brushed against her hair, Natsumi threw her head up and screamed. Neither boy expected it and the fell backwards with loud horrified screams.

Screams that eventually tapered off, leaving only the cackling sound of laughter by the head.

"Y-you two- HAH! You should have seen your face!"

Izuku felt his face grow hot and his eyes began to itch. Natsumi was still laughing but when she looked at him she suddenly stopped. He saw how her eyes went wide and heard Bakugou slowly start to growl.

"Neh! W-wait, Izuku d-don't cry! It was just a joke!" she quickly spoke but it was too late.

Izuku threw his head back and cried. At the same time Bakugou had charged forward with a war cry and kicked the bucket at Natsumi. Everything that followed afterwards can only be described as chaos.

 **O_o-BNHA-o_O**

When Masaki, Mitsuki and Inko go searching for their children, they are shocked by what they see. Little Izuku is on the side-lines yelling for the two other children to stop, with a face wet with tears. He's dirty and a bit scrapped up from attempting to stop the other two, but otherwise okay. Little Katsuki has his hands full with Natsumi's hair and Natsumi's got hers twisted in his shirt. The two have a few bruises and scratches on their face. They both look much dirtier than Izuku.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" Mitsuki yells.

"MAMA!" Izuku and Natsumi both cry.

"Natsumi-chan!? What are you doing?" Masaki gasps.

The little girl is quick to drop the boy in her hands and look incredibly guilty. Izuku has already run to his mother and is hugging her legs. Meanwhile, Katsuki is still glaring at the young girl.

"I-….This-….. I c-can e-explain everything Mama!" Natsumi stutters.

"SHE MADE DEKU CRY!" Katsuki accused.

Mitsuki grabbed her child and held him in place despite how he fought her hold. Natsumi turned and glared at Katsuki and Masaki could only blink in shock. She'd never seen her child so riled up before- not even Daichi could get her so passionate. None of the mothers could ignore the obvious signs that proved the children had been fighting. It's Inko who takes the lead to ask what happens, and a weepy Izuku can only attempt to explain.

It was very obvious he didn't want any of the other two children to get into trouble.

"Kaa-chan came and Natsumi-chan and I were playing fu-"

"A GAME! We were playing a ga-"

"TELL THE TRUTH YOU-"

"SHUT UP! YOU ANNOYING-"

"NATSUMI-CHAN!" Masaki gasped in disbelief and the little girl quickly changed her sentence.

"A-annoyingly pretty, very pretty, boy!"

It only served to spark a taunting match between the children with a torn Izuku stuck in the middle. Eventually the mothers gave up on trying to make peace among the children. Since none of the children could give them a proper explanation, they decided their families would all meet again tomorrow.

"But Mama!" "What the hell you Hag!" "Really!?" Natsumi, Katsuki and Izuku scrambled to say over each other.

The mothers all agreed and so it was agreed. The farewells among the group weren't exactly friendly, but it could have been worse. Natsumi only said goodbye to Izuku and Katsuki did something similar. The poor green haired child looked so upset that his old and new friends weren't getting along.

When Masaki got home, Daichi was waiting. He saw the messy state of their daughter and quirked a brow in question. Masaki opened her mouth several times, trying to figure out how to explain how things went. Natsumi however simply glared Daichi's inquiring expression.

"Hn?"

"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS PAPA!"

Daichi blinked and watched as the four year old stomped her way to her room and slammed her door. He looked to his wife and tilted his head.

"I thought we still had time before the teenage years kicked?"

Masaki sighed and she collapsed by his side and cuddled close.

"It's a long story."

The three children had no idea just how important they'd come to be to one another. Though, that was years in the future. In the moment, they were only children and the journey fate had designed for them to walk, was a long one.


End file.
